


Its —not— love.

by Macbreed_Lover (Valid_username_of_chaos)



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Freed aint no lady in distress, Fuck you ao3 his name is Macbeth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Translation, almost spanglish, this is fluffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 06:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12788763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valid_username_of_chaos/pseuds/Macbreed_Lover
Summary: Or maybe it was, and they just kept saying that it wasn’t  just to oppose what Richard said.Collection of drabbles.





	1. Party

**Author's Note:**

> This is and old drabble of mine, so yeah. Also, half of it got lost or changed while translating it, whoops.

* * *

**~Party~**

* * *

 

 

Freed gazed up intrigued as he saw a sillouete slide through the half-open back door. The hood fell slightly when the boy rested against the wall, letting his hair be seen. Macbeth he thought was his name; he hadn’t paid much attention since he decided to need some fresh air as soon as the Crime Sorciere's members had arrived.

They had decided to throw a re inauguration party, or more like Erza and fellows did, and no one said against it, and in the joy of the moment the new master had called Jellal, and invited the guild, perhaps because of the connection to said man, or the held they provided at the Big Magic Games, but the point was that they ended there. Still, right now it seemed like a bad idea taking in consideration the old incident with Oracion Seis, which members where in Jellal' guild.

Afterwards Freed wasn’t sure on how he ended up drawing the former black mage attention, but he did, and asked him if he was all right. Freed knew what he was going to tell him even before the short answer left Macbeth's lips. There was no way he believed that he was okay.

—I know how you feel —declared the green haired boy, resting beside the other, against the wall, earning a look in within of confused and distrustful—. I was there before.

—What do you mean?

—Be treated so kindly after being the villain. It does not feel right, does it?

Freed turned around then, their gazes meeting for a second. Macbeth was the first to look away, soon followed by the runic mage.

—No. It doesn't.

—Is their way of doing thing —he explained—. They do not hold grudges, and they are always ready to give you a fond welcome.

—It's weird.

—It is —he affirmed with a soft laugh.

Freed wasn’t sure on why had he done that, but he mumbled a “come”, and Macbeth wasn’t sure either on why he followed him, but one way or another both ended up in the party again.

However, it wasn't the best idea, or so they decided after being involved in one of the habitual fights, a very beaten Natsu by Erza, a few “it's love” and an awkward situation.


	2. Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually not mine, but Fu’s (https://www.fanfiction.net/u/6847830/Furrett-Buresion), but she gaved me permission to translate this (that is also in the original one, in spanish) one as well, so I did.

 

* * *

  **~Midnight~**

* * *

 

 

It was almost midnight and even though he had liked to say that the streets were empty and that everyone were sleeping in their houses, but it wasn’t like that. The neighborhood in which he walked through were well known to be the most festive district of the city, and it wasn’t weird to see people standing even at five in the morning —they didn’t have a job to go to the next day?—.

The unmistakable rhythm of a god-forgotten bachata was still within earshot even though he had walked several blocks away of the bar. The alcohol, the music and the dance weren’t made for Macbeth, that’s why he decided to leave, nothing to do the fact his two companions had gotten way too “affectionate” with each other and that made him uncomfortable, no, he just had better things in which waste his time… Sleeping was one of them.

He walked at a slow pace; maybe if it wasn’t like that he would have overlooked what happened in that alley.

A young man of around his age was cornered by a man clearly older than he was, threatening him with a sharp object. Macbeth stopped, considering whether or not to intervene and help the poor guy.

Truth to be said, he didn’t looked like the type to defend or resist. The perfect victim to theft.

His surprise was huge when he saw the young man grab his aggressor’s hand and bend it, getting him to drop the knife. Afterwards he stepped on it so the thief couldn’t grab it again. Macbeth, who was still unable to get out of his astonishment only managed to say that he was calling the cops, he just said it scare the older man tough, but it worked, because he ran away terrified.

—Thanks for earlier —the stanger’s gaze finally landed on Macbeth’s.

—It was nothing —he felt ashamed or misjudging him, like if he was a lady on distress—. But you have to show me how you did that.

—Fine, but an alley is not the best place to talk, tough, don’t you think?

—No, I see it’s not. How about going to a bar? I know one nearby.

—Sure, why not.

It was near one in the morning, and Macbeth wasn’t bothered of not being sleeping in house and go back to the noise.


End file.
